


Just Relax

by ladydragon76



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fanfiction, Genre: PWP, M/M, Rating: NC-17 - Freeform, character: bluestreak, character: ratchet, genre: hurt/comfort, smut: sticky, verse: g1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-14
Updated: 2012-04-14
Packaged: 2017-11-03 15:26:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> <a href="http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/71609.html?thread=879545#t879545">Prompt</a> from xianghua: G1 Bluestreak and... hmm... Ratchet! Healing sex, preferably sticky!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Relax

**Author's Note:**

> **Notes:** Sorta healing sex. Sticky as requested at least. ^_^

**Title:** Just Relax  
 **‘Verse:** G1  
 **Series:** None  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Pairing:** Bluestreak/Ratchet  
 **Summary:** [Prompt](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/71609.html?thread=879545#t879545) from xianghua: G1 Bluestreak and... hmm... Ratchet! Healing sex, preferably sticky!  
 **Notes:** Sorta healing sex. Sticky as requested at least. ^_^

 

**Just Relax**

 

It was late when Bluestreak slipped into the medbay. He had just a minor gash, nothing to worry Ratchet with when so many others had been so badly hurt in the earlier battle. Yes, he knew exactly what Ratchet would say about that when he found-

“What are you doing here?”

Oops. “Hiya, Ratch! Nothing, not really, I can come back some other time, I didn’t know you’d be here, I didn’t mean to disturb you. Hey! Shouldn’t you be in recharge?”

Ratchet blinked, slow and really tired looking from where he leaned on his office doorway, and Bluestreak backed toward the door. Slag! He really hadn’t wanted to bother Ratchet. The poor mech looked like he was about to fall down.

Bluestreak stopped.

_Ratchet_ looked like he was about to fall down.

“Ratchet. Why are you awake?” Bluestreak crossed to the frowning medic, one hand reaching. Despite Ratchet swatting at him, and cursing, Bluestreak pushed until the backs of Ratchet’s knees bumped the spare berth and he was forced to sit. “You look awful.”

Ratchet barked a short, mirthless laugh. “Gee thanks, Blue. You still didn’t-“

“That’s not how I meant it.” Well, everyone always cut him off. Bluestreak might as well use the same tactic. “Have you even had any energon today?”

Ratchet narrowed his optics, keeping them locked to Bluestreak’s as he knelt. “Why. Are you. In _my_ medbay, in the middle of the damn night, pushing _me_ around?”

“I have a little scratch I was going to fix up. Now answer the question. Have you refueled?” Ratchet immediately began to inspect Bluestreak’s frame, just as he’d known would happen. “Ratchet,” Bluestreak said firmly, battlefield voice as Ironhide liked to say.

Ratchet’s lips pressed into a tight line. “Don’t think for a second that you can out-stubborn me, boy. I can and _will_ weld your aft to the ceiling.”

Bluestreak heaved a sigh, then stood. He ignored Ratchet’s sputtering, having long since learned when it was safe or not to defy The Medic. He filled a cube from the dispenser, and took it back, parking himself next to Ratchet on the berth. “Here. Drink it all, and I’ll show you my little, definitely doesn’t need a medic’s attention, scratch.”

“Bribery?” Ratchet snorted, but took the energon, downing a third of it in a single long pull. “You’ve been around the twins too much.”

“And you’ve been working too hard again. Well, still really. I swear, Ratch, do you _ever_ take any time for yourself?”

“When the frag do you think I have time for myself with the Decepticons blowing up everyone I care about every other slagging day?!”

Bluestreak held Ratchet’s gaze calmly, not even flinching as he was yelled at. Ratchet yelled. If Prime yelled at him, it’d be different. Or Prowl, but Ratchet just yelled. It was how he got things out. What worried Bluestreak was the way Ratchet’s voice was tangled with static toward the end. “You’re really upset.”

Aqua optics paled and stared. “Do ya think?!” Ratchet launched to his feet, pacing back and forth in the narrow little office. “Not only did I very slagging nearly lose Sunstreaker today, but that would have cost us Sideswipe as well! Bumblebee’s spark stuttered on me! Slingshot is grounded until we can replace his wing, and that’s got him and _all four_ of his brothers frothing and flailing! Prowl wants the reports and when they’ll be up and moving! Prime-“

Ratchet cut himself off as Bluestreak stepped in front of him and wrapped him in a hug. For a moment Bluestreak was sure he was going to be pushed away, but then Ratchet heaved a shuddering sigh, and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“Dirty trick.”

“Yeah. I save it for special cases.” Bluestreak grinned, and nuzzled into Ratchet’s shoulder.

They stood quietly for a moment, then Ratchet sighed. “This is more than a little scratch, Blue.”

“It’s fine,” Bluestreak said, and stepped forward, forcing Ratchet back toward his berth. “It’s not gushing. It’s been cleaned. And believe me, doorwings are sensitive, so if it actually hurt, I’d beg you to fix it. Promise I’ll let you mess with it later. Now sit, or better yet, lay down.”

Ratchet dropped to the berth, and gave Bluestreak a half-sparked glare. “Pushy brat.”

Bluestreak chuckled, and handed Ratchet his energon. “Finish that.”

Ratchet took it with a sigh, and drained the cube. He gave Bluestreak a flat look, and dispersed the cube with a squeeze. “Happy now?”

Bluestreak tipped his helm, and gave Ratchet a serious once over. “Not really. You’re way too stressed. I can see it in how you’re holding yourself.”

“Blue-“

“Lay back.” Bluestreak put his hands on Ratchet’s shoulders and applied pressure. Ratchet squawked in protest, but didn’t resist. Or couldn’t. Bluestreak didn’t have the specialized scanners, but he could tell just by the dim, pale light of Ratchet’s optics that he wasn’t doing well. He picked Ratchet’s feet off the floor and swung them around, then crawled onto the berth.

“Now you’re going to sit on me?”

Bluestreak snickered. “Nah. You’d just fight me then, I have a much better plan to help you relax.” He straddled Ratchet’s legs, and leaned forward, hands smoothing over abdominal cables and plating.

Ratchet’s optics went wide. “Blue-“

“You can tell me no and I’ll stop, but I think we both know you could use an overload. Or fifty.”

Ratchet snorted. “I have a medbay full of patients out there.”

“And if something goes wrong with one, the alarms will go off, right?” Bluestreak asked, scooting back and lowering his face.

Ratchet’s vents caught as Bluestreak nuzzled against his plating, licking along the lowest edge between torso and pelvis. “Y-yes.”

“And you wouldn’t leave a patient in need just so you could overload, right?” he asked, letting his lips brush over a support cable.

“No! Of course not!”

Bluestreak looked up from under his chevron, exhaling a warm gust of air, and smiling as Ratchet’s optics shaded a bit darker. “Then if an alarm goes off, I’ll get out of the way.” He dipped his face and gave a cable a long, slow lick without breaking optic contact. “Can’t help noticing you haven’t told me to stop.”

Ratchet narrowed his optics in a glare, then dropped his helm back. He didn’t say ‘no’, or ‘stop’, or even ‘go frag yourself, Blue’, so Bluestreak went back to nibbling cables and searching out sensitive spots with his hands. He could feel Ratchet warming beneath him, and worked his way up. He traced the glass windshield with his tongue, dipped his fingers into transformation seams, then burrowed into Ratchet’s neck.

“This is nice,” Ratchet whispered, “but they-“

Bluestreak cut him off with a kiss, then smiled down at him. “No complaining. Say stop, or shut up and enjoy it.”

Ratchet shook his head, but a small smile curved his mouth. “You really are a pushy brat.”

Bluestreak grinned, and caught Ratchet’s hands. “Just relax and enjoy.” He sat back, and brought one hand to his mouth, lightly kissing the fingers. Ratchet’s optics darkened, mouth parting.

_Gotcha!_ Bluestreak thought, and set out to slowly suck on each one of Ratchet’s fingers. He grinned as Ratchet shivered, and licked across one red palm. Ratchet’s interface panel clicked, and Bluestreak purred, letting the vibrations rumble across the fine sensors.

“Which do you prefer?” Ratchet asked.

Bluestreak paused a moment, briefly confused. “Oh!” He shook his head and laughed lightly. “No, this is about you, Ratchet.” He went back to sucking on one of Ratchet’s fingers, and slid back.

“I… what?”

Bluestreak grinned around the finger in his mouth, releasing it with a playful pop as he pushed one knee between Ratchet’s. “Relax.” He settled so he was kneeling between Ratchet’s legs, and then scooted back more. Ratchet’s panel was unlocked, but not open, so Bluestreak reached out to trace and tease the edges. With his other hand, he played his fingers over Ratchet’s inner thigh seam up to his hip joint.

Dark, half-hooded optics watched Bluestreak as he leaned forward, then stretched out on his front. He flashed a smile at Ratchet, then blew lightly over the panel. He dipped his helm as it retracted, licking across Ratchet’s spike housing, tipping his head to the side as it extended so he could tease the nodes.

Ratchet moaned, and Bluestreak felt a little thrill of victory. He slipped his hands under Ratchet’s thighs, and pushed lower, purring as he lapped at the first droplets of lubricant seeping out.

“Blue…”

“Mm?”

“Keep doing that.” Ratchet’s voice was a bit breathless, and Bluestreak smiled, licking around the edge of his valve again.

He pushed his mouth more firmly against Ratchet’s array, thrusting his tongue in and out, then sucking over the spot between valve and spike. Bluestreak toyed with that anterior node for a moment, and wrapped one hand around Ratchet’s spike. He received another low moan for his efforts, and suppressed a shiver. He’d meant it. It was all about Ratchet right now. He could take care of himself later or something.

Bluestreak alternated between light teasing touches and kisses, and firm gripping strokes and plunging thrusts of his tongue. Ratchet writhed, one hand on Bluestreak’s helm, his hips rolling. His frame was hot, and his thighs trembled against Bluestreak’s shoulders.

Ratchet went suddenly still, back arched, fingers hard on Bluestreak’s head, thighs squeezing in, and overloaded with a shout. Bluestreak stroked him through it, gentling his touch, petting Ratchet’s hip with his free hand.

“Primus!” Ratchet gasped.

Bluestreak gave his array one last kiss, then climbed off the berth. He dug around until he found a spare scrap of cloth, cleaned himself up, rinsed it, and returned to Ratchet. He brushed Ratchet’s hands aside, and cleaned the transfluid and lubricants away, smiling.

“You missed a spot,” Ratchet said. Bluestreak bit at his lip, and looked him over, not seeing where he might have missed. Ratchet sat up, and caught him by the back of his neck.

Bluestreak grinned as his bottom lip was licked, then sucked, and hummed happily into the kiss as it was deepened. “Any better?” he asked when Ratchet released him.

Ratchet gave him a small smile, and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, Blue.”

Bluestreak pushed at Ratchet’s shoulders until he laid back down, then stood. “Anytime. Really, Ratch. Anytime. You deserve someone looking after you too, ya know, but for now get some recharge. You want me to stick around and keep an optic on anything so you can rest better, I took a nap earlier so I’m really not all that tired.”

Ratchet gave Bluestreak a searching look, then waved a hand in a shooing motion as he rolled to his side. “I’m looking at that wound when I wake up.”

“I’ll be right out there waiting.” Bluestreak grinned when all Ratchet did was grunt at him. “Night, Ratch,” he whispered, turning out the light to the office on his way.

~ | ~

**([Table of Contents](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/6214.html) )**


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